Bridging the Gap

Howling over Oliver

An ordinary Beagle bridges the culture gap

By Ahmed Tharwa
 

My previous relationship with dogs can best be described as distant.Growing up in a small village in Egypt, I only saw dogs outside of homes, roaming in the streets as I believed nature intended. Having adog in an Arab/Muslim household, unlike cats, is an exhausting proposition. In Islamic tradition, Muslims are prohibited from touching dogs, especially their saliva. If you do comein contact with a dog, you’re supposed to wash seven times before you pray. Who wants to wash or take a shower every timea dog touches or licks you, as I was brought up to do back home in Egypt? Most Muslims will avoid dogs at all cost to stay clean for their daily prayers. There are a few closet Muslim dog lovers, but they tend to keep their dogs outdoors. My daughter wanted a dog for sometime, and after a lot of nagging from her, and a few internet pictures of an angelic Beagle puppy, I reluctantly agreed to let a dog into our home…under a few conditions. The first was that the dog was to stay downstairs in what is now known in our house asthe “bunker.” The second non-negotiable was that my praying area would be designated a “no-fly” zone for the dog.

My wife and my daughter brought home a 6-week-old, 3- pound Beagle on a cold, crisp Saturday afternoon. They rescued him from northwest Minnesota and named him Oliver. Having a cheerful and playful dog around 24/7 is an interesting concept for a usually horizontal couch potato like me. I soon realized that dogs, unlike cats, prefer their human family members to be the upright vertical type. This dog seemed to operate with an atomic battery as he chewed on anything that stood still. However, a few days after he had arrived at our house, I had to take Oliver with me to the supermarket.

This usually mundane chore now allowed me to see the world through my new, animal-loving eyes. I noticed something new was happening out there, something Arab- Americans have rarely experienced since 9/11. People on the street, in their cars, in the parking lot, and at the supermarket were giving me a new look— a friendly one! Strangers who used to skillfully avoid eye contact now wanted to engage me in warm conversation. Patriotic national hotline tippers, who are usually more concerned about Muslim sleeper cells, now stopped me and cordially inquired about my puppy’s sleeping habits, breed, and big black eyes. Families congregated around me with their children to see the cute puppy, and they talked to him as if he should know what they were talking about.

As a hyphenated-American, I have discovered that living with a dog easily accomplishes what many diversity training programs have failed to do for years. Regardless of our race, color, religion, or country of origin, we are one community of civilized dog lovers. I now take Oliver everywhere I go. He is my post-9/11 homeland-security blanket. My advice to Arab-Americans looking for a real friend: Get a puppy!